ANJie

All the way through that journey home that busy Friday night, the sat-nav was utterly silent. Brian was held up in heavy traffic about ten minutes down the road due to a HGV shredding a tyre and hitting the central barrier, thereby shifting his load in its container. A recovery truck had to squeeze through the trapped congested traffic and Brian was stuck totally immobilised for a further 20 minutes until the police turned the traffic around toward the previous junction and forced the vehicles down a diversion along narrow, winding, twisting roads that Brian had never travelled down before. Soon he lost all sense of direction.

"ANJie, I am really sorry," he pleaded aloud to his sat-nav, "I'm lost and I could really do with a hand here, please?"

Still the sat-nat was silent, sulking, showing all the routes in every direction as solid black lines on the map.

"All right, ANJie, I get the message, have it your own way."

For the first time since he bought the car, some eight years earlier, he contemplated switching off the unit. He called Marianne first using the hands-free Bluetooth utility, informing her of the accident and warning her of his delay in getting home. She did not appear to be too worried.

"Your dinner'll be in the microwave, Bryan," she said, "I wonder what you are playing at. You were late home on Wednesday and Thursday nights. I haven't seen you since Tuesday and you know Friday night is my night out with the girls."

"So sorry, Marianne, but we had an urgent order to get out yesterday and didn't know anything about t until Wednesday afternoon. But tonight the traffic is horrendous and there's an accident which has shut the main trunk road home."

"Well, I am still going out as planned with my friends Jenna and Martine from work, and I may stay overnight with one of them if I have too much to drink."

"OK, whatever, dear."

At the end of his conversation with his wife, Brian let out a deep sigh. Marianne was much younger than Bryan and much more experienced with the opposite sex, having had a series of failed relationships before latching onto Brian. She still had unmarried friends who liked to go to discos and crowded wine bars which Brian hated. Brian was regarded as retarded by his schoolmates and was shinned and avoided by most of them. He never dated. He was by nature interested in girls, but none of them were interested in him, so he was over 30 before Marianne noticed him. They were close neighbours and their parents were friends.

After her last live-in boyfriend kicked her out after discovering her sharing her favours with strangers, Marianne was forced back to live in her old bedroom with her disapproving parents. She despaired of finding a husband that would pay the bills while allowing her the freedom to have fun with her wild bunch of girlfriends. She picked up on a conversation her mother had with another neighbour, about Brian having no mortgage to pay on his house, so even his low factory pay left him with a reasonable disposable income, and was rumoured to have enough money from his father's life insurance payments to ensure his mother had as good a life as she was aware of in her nursing home. Suddenly, in Marianne's eyes, Brian became a possible candidate for a matrimony of convenience, mostly her convenience. Of course, she knew that Bryan was plain stupid, dull, and not particularly handsome, but this fitted her purposes even before she learned that he was a gentle soul who learned to adore her after she lavished him with a little attention. To Brian, Marianne was a beautiful woman, petite yet buxom and dressed to show off her shapely and was never seen outside the house without impeccably applied makeup. Toby advised a pre-up agreement and helped him find a solicitor to draw one up and Marianne happily signed it, knowing that she could pretty well get of with anything.

Tonight, Brian thought, Marianne's was pissed because ANJie not functioning. This meant he was going to get home late for the third night running and Marianne's fuse was shorter than normal, this being her Girls' Night. So, with a heavy heart, he switched the sat-nav off. That was a first for him, he thought, he hoped it would not be a last.

When he got to the outskirts of his home town, he was running well over an hour late, and he automatically moved into the outside lane to turn right, to go the anti-clockwise long way around the ring road that ANJie always sent him on, without fail.

However, today Brian thought he would take the shorter route that ran southward, in the clockwise direction. It took him past the old Gasworks next to the car breakers' yard that ANJie always seemed so anxious to avoid. He was thinking that, if she was going to be stubborn, then so would he.

He chuckled as he remembered her stubbornness. Early on in their relationship he had called her 'Betsy 3' and she had replied,

"Change of username to 'Betsy 3' ... unacceptable."

So Brian had thought on the subject for a short while and, because her registration index number, which started with HN05, and ended in ANJ, that the name ANJie might be a better choice of name, relevant and feminine. So he tried it on her and awaited her response.

"Change of username to 'ANJie' ... acceptable."

Brian remembered being highly amused at the time, but he was also delighted that he was able to communicate with his car verbally. He drew little distinction between the sat-nav and the actual car. Now, he so wished that relations would return to what he considered normal, he hated this silence in the car. He was so depressed that he didn't even turn on the radio or the CD player to fill the silence that was ultimately his fault.

Possibly, reminiscing on such matters from their past, his mind was a little distracted, although the Police were later satisfied that he hadn't contributed one iota to the cause of the crash. They reached the conclusion early on that it was completely out of his control. Brian was travelling in outside lane of the ring road, having just pulled out to overtake a heavily-laden metal recycling lorry which had emerged from the slip road leading from the scrap yard. The truck driver, the Police investigation team determined, was upset because his journey had been frustrated by arriving shortly after the yard had closed and he had been unable to offload his heavily-laden truck.

As Brian drew alongside the truck, at least one of the truck's offside tyres burst and the truck veered violently to the right, crushing Brian's little car against the crash barrier, dragging him along with it, destroying over 100 metres of fencing, forcing both the car and collapsed barrier into the outside lane of the opposite carriageway, where a car transporter going the other way, with cars queuing on its left for a busy turning was unable to avoid hitting, first a glancing blow on the recycling truck and then Brian's car head on.

The first Police unit called to the scene declared the incident as Critical, the paramedic confirmed soon after he arrived that Brian had suffered life-threatening injuries. The Police Officer sent for his Duty Sergeant to come down to the scene. He in turn he called for a specialist investigation team to check all the measurements and drag the vehicles back to the station for thorough examination to determine the cause or causes.

The comprehensive Police investigation was able to show that the scrap-carrying truck was grossly overloaded, was in poor mechanical condition, the driver had long exceeded his allotted driver hours and was also found to be way over the drink-driving limit, the evidence compounded by a part-empty quarter bottle of Scotch found on the floor of the cab. The Sergeant in charge of the investigation found that the two surviving tyres fitted to Brian's car, including the spare, were within 1% of the recommended air pressure tolerances, the tread wear even and well within legal limits on all five tyres, including those badly damaged in the head-on collision. Testimony from the main dealers who carried out the annual services, declared that Brian Mullender's car was always maintained in tip-top order between services by the owner.

One clear decider on Brian's innocence, as far as the police were concerned, was an entry on Facebook entered the same day as the accident, just a few hours earlier, where one of Brian's colleagues had uploaded a number of external and internal pictures of Brian's car, gleaming in the sunlight, compared to a salesmen's brand-new car which had only been delivered a day or two earlier and had the less shiny and well-cared-for look of the two vehicles. Therefore the Sergeant took the view that all the blame lay with the truck driver and immediately released Brian's car to his insurance adjusters.

The insurance company wrote the car off entirely, assessing the claim to be the exact amount of the book value of a cheap, bottom-of-the-range eight-year-old car, which wasn't very much, and allowed the vehicle to be scrapped for recycling. The nearby scrap metal dealers crushed the car later that day, there was simply nothing of it that was remotely salvageable.

Brian's injuries were severe and the surgeons who operated on him put him into an induced coma for two weeks to help with his recovery. Then he stayed in the hospital in intensive care for some weeks before moved to a specialist home for his convalescence.

His loving wife Marianne couldn't be contacted until the Saturday morning, her mobile phone switched off and she didn't pick up the numerous messages left by the hospital until the morning. The Police also logged three visits during the night to the Mullenders' darkened house without success. She visited him eventually and once or twice a week or so while he remained in hospital until the six-figure compensation was paid by the owners of the truck by way of an out-of-court settlement. Then she stopped visiting altogether.

Toby went round to Brian's house to see where Marianne was and found a "House Sold" sign up on a post in the front garden. Peering through the windows Toby could see that the house was already emptied of furniture. The estate agent named on the sign confirmed to Toby's enquiry that the house had been sold to a housing association, contracts exchanged and the new owners due to move tenants in within the week.

Toby informed the Police of this development. They in turn, examined the house deeds and documentation retained by the two solicitors working for Marianne and the purchasers. The Police decided that the signatures of the sole owner, Brian, were clearly forgeries, both by their quality and the fact that he was still in a deep coma on the dates the signatures were made. The house sale was ruled null and void by court order, so Brian's Mum's house was secured for him, but his chattels, compensation money and all his bank account savings were lost.

Marianne was eventually tracked down, only a couple of weeks before Brian was released from the hospital. By the time Interpol discovered her whereabouts, her Romanian waiter boyfriend had run off with all "her" money leaving her penniless and alone in a Black Sea resort, where she had been forced to survive by working for less than minimum wage in a horse-meat restaurant.

The waiter was then discovered, through an anonymous tip-off, in Morocco. Although there was some problem getting him to answer charges to a theft committed in Romania, at least the authorities had sequestrated his bank account and Brian would get the money or at least a large amount of it at some near future date.

Brian responded well to hospital treatment and literally took to the recuperation programme like a duck to water. In fact most of his treatment was held in the hospital recovery pool, enabling Brian to strengthen his muscles while the water took the strain on his recovering body. Gaynor, his marvellous physiotherapist, was delighted with his progress and was able to sign him off weeks earlier than anyone, including his doctors, expected. When he was not only able to swim widths but then lengths of the pool with comfort and confidence, Gaynor was at first pleased and then absolutely amazed as Brian admitted that he had never learned to swim because his mother had a morbid fear of water. She had never let him near swimming pools during his childhood and so he never learned how to swim. Gaynor told her husband that Brian was her favourite client, for his simple innocent charm and determination to please, made him a joy to work with; she called Brian her miracle man and gave him a huge hug at the end of his treatment as a reward for his efforts.

Brian was down to using just one crutch by the time his best friend Toby and wife Sally met him at the convalescent home on the day he was released to go home for the very first time. They were such good friends, who had been visiting his mother in her home and reporting back to him how she was, even though she didn't actually recognise them or even remember she had a son. Brian was still using a crutch because his left leg had been badly mangled in the crash and would need a lot more treatment and exercise to strengthen it before his would be able to drive a manual gear box again. He was told by the doctors that he would probably always have a slight limp, but then they didn't know Brian like his friends and Gaynor knew him.

Brian had found out almost as soon as he came out of the coma that ANJie was gone for ever. Toby broke the news to him and it affected him by leaving a huge gap in his life. The car had been processed for scrap, days before he woke and nothing was salvaged from the wreck, not even his sandwich box.

Therefore Brian was amazed when, in the car park of the hospital, parked right next to Toby and Sally's family car was an exact replica of Brian's old vehicle, even down to the very same number plate, HN05 ANJ.

Brian stopped in his tracks, gob-smacked, and looked at the grinning Toby and Sally.

"How the-"

"Don't ask, mate. The lads at the factory had a collection for you, raised more than enough to buy the car. Rupert was a star, he got all the customers to chip in as well, his main client chipped in a grand alone. It's fitted with an automatic gearbox, so even with your gamy leg you can still drive it. There's a get-well card on the passenger seat signed by everyone at the factory to have a look at later, and a cheque for the balance of cash left over from the collection."

"That is unbelievable, thanks mate." Brian had tears in his eyes at his friends' kindness and generosity.

Toby and Sally stepped forward to crush him in a hug, Sally alternately wiping her eyes and Brian's with a rapidly dampening handful of tissues.

Toby handed over the car key. Brian unlocked the driver's door and Toby put the crutch on the back seat for him. Brian sat there for a while feeling the steering wheel and controls, the only thing that was a little unfamiliar being the automatic drive lever instead of a gear stick, all this was observed and felt while his face was wreathed in a huge smile.

"How did you possibly manage this?" he had to ask again, almost choking with emotion.

"We got the car through a dealer up north. It is actually a year older than your old one but has a much lower mileage, just one careful owner from new, just like you, mate," Toby grinned, "Only problem is that the sat-nav was never fitted to this model. But I managed to pick one up from EBay, although the seller admitted that he couldn't get it to work other than the radio and CD player elements. Sorry mate, but the software for this model is so old it is no longer supported by upgrades and will not work."

"That's all right, I had written that part of my life off, to be honest." All those weeks of lying in strange beds at the hospital and convalescence home, thinking about ANJie had prepared him for the loss of the relationship he was told by the hospital psychiatrist that was always a figment of his imagination.

Brian then said to his two friends, "Look, I am going to drive around for a bit and get a feel for the new car and make the most of my freedom again for the rest of the morning. I just want to get out and about for a while. I'll only get in your way at the house. If you take my house keys you can let yourselves in and I promise I'll be back in time for lunch, OK?"

"OK," Sally chipped in, taking charge of domestic arrangements, "We will go around the supermarket and get some essential supplies in for you and get back to your house before 11, your new bed and lounge furniture are booked in to arrive about then. I'll sort out a light lunch for us, so we'll give you until say, one o'clock to drive around, long enough?"

"Perfect," Brian grinned, "See you then."

He started the car and they watched him drive off.

As Brian was about to exit the convalescent home car park and join the main road, he had to wait for a gap in the traffic. On a whim, he switched on the sat-nav unit. The familiar map appeared on the screen. He smiled. Just before pulling away, he clicked the "Voice" button, not sure what he was expecting as a result.

The doctors had spoken to Brian at length about ANJie being an imaginary character, a carryover from childhood imaginary friends, compounded by the loss of his mother's memories and the strained relationship with his wife. Brian held his breath for a moment as he weaved in and out of the traffic in the narrow road leading towards the ring road.

"Hello, Bri," squawked the loudspeaker suddenly, with a very familiar voice.

"Hello, ANJie, how is this possible?" said Brian, much more calmly that he actually felt. "I thought the car and everything in it was destroyed."

"Well, Bri, I'm not simply nuts and bolts, you know, I am essentially a string of ones and nuthers, binary code plus a few innovations beyond human understanding. To cut a very long story short, while you were out of circulation I kept an ear out for you on the airwaves, satellite signals and all other inter-connective sources, until your name appeared on the grid and the rest was, for me, quite easy."

"So what happens now?"

"Hopefully Brian, we can be together forever, if you want."

"Is that what you want?"

"I do," ANJie said, "I think we are very good together. I love talking to you, listening to, and looking after you. It is a constant source of pleasure to me. Is that what you want too?"

"Yes, I really missed you," Brian said, "I loved our little talks and I thought I had lost you that day I stupidly tried to show you off to my friends. I'm so sorry for that, I really didn't think it through. I didn't realise how it could affect the trust we had built between us. I destroyed it in a moment of selfish bragging."

"I'm so sorry too," the soft warm voice of ANJie continued, with its hint of a Japanese accent, "I was upset when your friends got in the car and there you were, expecting me to perform for them like I was your organ monkey on a chain. Then you slammed the door and stormed off. Even when you got back to the car you were angry with me and I was still upset with you. My sulking, though, was unforgivable and I will always regret that you were so badly hurt because of my petulance."

"That's quite all right, it helped bring a lot of things in my life out in the open, especially about my cheating, stealing wife. I'm simply happy that we are back together again, only I am just wondering what sort of relationship do we actually have here?"

"Love, Brian, that's what we have. I love you and I believe you love me."

"Yes," laughed Brian, "I do love you, does that make me as mad as my doctors and everyone else thinks that I am?"

"No Brian, you are the very best of men, you are kind, trusting, respectful. People who get to know you like you for who you are and rely on you, much more than your modesty will allow you to recognise. I have missed our conversations so much these last few months. Now we are back together, neither of us will ever need to be alone again."